What is this thing leaving a track in mud
Behind and beside, hidden in the dark
Never coming out to the light, but present
When the world is asleep and all is quiet
Come to look and curious watch over
What might be threatening come morning
What do you make your night visit?
What is it that draws you here to this place?
Could it be what draws me from my bed
In the middle of the dark to find the healing
Song in stars spread above, as tiny points
Draw me to prayers within untouched by
The light of day, yet drawn still to this
Place, to this attention in the soul